Fortune Cookies
by QueenStrata
Summary: Crowley discovers Fortune Cookies that have abnormal fortunes in them and shares his discovery with Aziraphale.


A/N: So yes. Found the phrase that's on the last fortune cookie in this fic in someone's lj, and absolutely had to write something using it. This…is the insanity that came.

Warnings: …Just wait till you can see what Zira can do!

Disclaimer: Don't own shit.

Summary: Crowley discovers Fortune Cookies that have abnormal fortunes in them and shares his discovery with Aziraphale.

Dedication: To cinammonblood on lj, for giving me the idea for the fic.

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Fortune Cookies

Aziraphale stared as Crowley entered his bookshop, a small bag clenched tightly in one hand. Something about the way the demon was grinning and practically skipping made him want to run for the hills. Or fly for the hills, rather, to make it harder for Crowley to track him. Or would it make the task easier? Aziraphale was neither sure, nor particularly interested in finding out.

"What did you do?" the angel asked sharply, in lieu of a greeting.

"Do?" Crowley asked, affecting an injured expression. "Why, angel, what could _possibly_ have given you _that_ idea?"

"You're on the verge of skipping," Aziraphale pointed out (rather sulkily, if truth be told). "You're never so happy unless you've done something horrible."

Crowley looked sheepish at the last remark. "No, actually, I've rather taken the day off. I've just been eating a lot of sugary foods and drinking a lot of caffeinated beverages. So I'm, you know…hyper. My body's gone into an energy overdrive and all that."

"So you've come to annoy me," Aziraphale sighed.

"So I've come to visit you, yes," Crowley agreed brightly, and sat down in front of Aziraphale before dropping his bag onto the counter.

"Get off my counter, dear," Aziraphale muttered absently, warily poking at Crowley's bag. A blur of some tan-ish blob inside of a plastic pouch rolled across the counter until it hit Crowley's leg and came to a dead stop. The angel stared at it. "Fortune cookies?" he asked blankly.

"Yes, fortune cookies," Crowley grinned. "They have some odd messages in them. Here, look." He held out his hand.

Aziraphale gingerly took the crumpled piece of paper from between Crowley's fingers and straightened it out. Both of his eyebrows shot toward his hairline. "True happiness is found in an angel's arms?"

"That one was my favorite," Crowley snickered. "Reminds me of a song sung by that kid from the U.S.. Atkins or something?"

"Who?" Aziraphale inquired, knowing absolutely nothing about the popular culture of Britain, let alone the United States.

"I don't know," Crowley shrugged. "I only put the ideas in their heads, you know. Anyway, part of the lyrics go something along the lines of: 'Angel, heaven starts here, tonight in your arms… Wanna drown in your body, get lost in your charms… Now that you're here, angel don't go…. Let's keep the mood nice and slow…'"

Aziraphale stared at him. Not only was the song entirely unfamiliar, but he had never heard Crowley sing before. For some reason, he had always expected the demon's singing voice to be horrible, but he was pleasantly surprised at the truth. He wondered vaguely if Crowley would hiss if he got too into the song.

"Very nice," Aziraphale murmured politely and wondered where Crowley was getting with all this.

"I've been getting suspicious of these things," the demon said suddenly as if he had been reading his friend's mind. "They seem very…attuned to me for some reason. I wanted to see what the thins would have to say to you."

"Who do you suppose would be changing the messages, then?" Aziraphale asked curiously.

"Well…I'm not sure, exactly. In fact, I haven't felt any odd powers from them at all."

"Then why are you so concerned?"

"Because…because I am. Just read your fortunes, angel!"

Aziraphale sighed, but obligingly picked up the cookie and unwrapped it before putting the entire thing into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully for a few moments, swallowed, and then pulled the tiny paper out of his mouth—unharmed but slightly damp. Crowley grinned. He loved seeing the angel do that, because he thought it was an entirely impure thing to do and knew Aziraphale would be insulted that he thought such a thing.

"You're…going to get a paper cut on your tongue from that," the angel read slowly, obviously not entirely believing his own eyes. There was a pause. "Crowley, make sure I read this right?"

Crowley plucked the paper out of his hand, read it, and nodded. "Yup, that's exactly what it says. Why don't you have another? I only managed to shove five into this tiny bag, so you can have them all."

"Thank you," Aziraphale smiled at Crowley's unusual bought of kindness as he popped another cookie into his mouth. Seconds later, he pulled the paper back out. He read it. And blushed.

Crowley poked him.

"Erm," Aziraphale said.

Crowley poked him again.

"Lust isn't as deadly as you propose," the angel said in a small voice.

"I like that one," Crowley said in an admiring sort of voice. "Go on, have another one. It can be your last, if you want."

Aziraphale glared at him. "Why don't _you_ eat one?" he asked.

"I've already had about ten of them!" the demon whined. The angel's glare didn't waver. Sighing, Crowley pulled a cookie out of the bag and split it in half, fishing the paper out of the crumbs. Then he shoved the entire cookie into his mouth. "Love isn't quite so bad as all that," he read aloud once he'd swallowed, scowling at the paper. "Your turn."

The angel, scowling nearly as much as Crowley, pulled one cookie out of the bag and opened it. He gave Crowley something akin to a glare as he chewed for longer than necessary.

"Oh, get on with it, angel," Crowley grumbled.

Aziraphale spit out the paper, looking disgruntled, and smoothed it out. Then he read it, slowly, in his head. And blinked a few times before staring blankly at it for a minute. Then he blinked again.

"Well," he said.

"Well what?" the other asked.

"This one is…interesting."

"Interesting how? C'mon, read it already!"

Aziraphale cleared his throat and, looking rather embarrassed, did as the demon asked. "Crowley is the fulfillment of your true destiny."

Crowley blinked. "I am?"

"That's what it says here," Aziraphale told him, giving a sort of helpless shrug. "Don't ask me if it's right."

Crowley stared at him for a while, mouthing the words soundlessly; he was obviously trying to figure out exactly what it meant.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, was not nearly as obtuse as he pretended to be and already had an idea of what was going on. Apparently, God had been getting impatient with the two of them, and had decided to think things into His own hands. Exactly why He wanted them together was a complete mystery to the angel, but he had never pretended to understand the way God thought. Anyway, the reasons didn't particularly matter. What _did_ matter was that his boss wanted him to so something, so he'd better hop to it.

Literally.

Aziraphale actually hopped up onto the counter beside Crowley. Surprised, the demon made to run away screaming his arse off, because his friend was doing something that totally weirded him out. But before he could so much as slide toward the far edge, he found an angel draped over him and pooled in his lap. He let out a startled yelp when he felt the angel nuzzling into his neck.

"I think I know what we're being told," Aziraphale murmured into Crowley's skin. The demon whimpered. "And, you know, I've always wanted to see that flat of yours. I'm sure it's bound to be more comfortable than this counter at any rate."

Crowley thought about what Aziraphale was saying for all of one second. Then he wrapped his arms around Aziraphale's waist and slid smoothly off the counter.

"Let's not keep anyone waiting then," he said. His voice was a little higher than usual.

It took them a while to so much as get the Bentley started.

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A/N: Yes, I'm aware that there's one cookie left in the bag. I was just getting lazy. Sorry. 


End file.
